


Cage

by captainhook



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Psychology, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhook/pseuds/captainhook
Summary: About human greed. About how even the closest person can betray. About how even the most peaceful bird will never stop trying to fly away.
Kudos: 1





	Cage

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Клетка](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/662416) by Lira Viliring. 



A lot of people knew John Cyron, hell—there wasn’t a man who didn’t know the billionaire of the country, the whole continent actually. However, no one was even close to knowing (except perhaps John’s inner circle, who is in charge of his affairs) exactly what Mr Cyron got rich on. Maybe he was successful at the stock exchange, played a good poker game, drilled for oil, or made small parts for engineering? Or maybe he had in his hands an “eternal engine” for the extraction of the most expensive stone on the planet? No, that can’t be right. There’s no such thing in nature. That’s what everyone will think, but… their opinion is wrong.

That, what John was guarding with seven locks, in the most hidden place, in the safest safe… In a golden cage, that no one can get out of. In a giant birdcage.

***

“John, it hasn’t been a week. It’s dangerous, you know…”

“Rightly said,” the mansion owner interrupted Bard’s never-ending tirade, “I know.”

“But then don’t do it.”

“Sales are down, she’ll generate more.”

After entering the code into the lock, the door opened into the dark room. Only a small area in the center of the room—a gold cage—was lit.

“Come on, little birdie! Stop sleeping, I’m awake.”

John stopped within a metre of the wrought iron bars and looked at the cause of his earnings with displeasure, while she was reluctantly opening her eyes. 

“But I just fell asleep,” Samantha objected, stretching on the soft bed.

The cage was very comfortable, and with all the comfort a man needed. There was a big bed and a chair. On the floor of the cage there were various journals and books of the best quality. Sam was escorted to the bathroom by the faithful Bard Hogers, an irreplaceable right-hand man. Dinner took place in the same room, in the company of the owner. When she wasn’t in the cage, she was chained to the chair with a fetter that was attached to her ankle.

Somehow John couldn’t figure out that Samantha wasn’t going anywhere, even if that’s what she wanted. But the girl never tried to escape, never even thought about freedom. She was fine without it. Well, how important can it be, that’s how Sam saw it. She was taken care of, fed with the best delicacies, sometimes given beautiful dresses or hollow beads. But most importantly, she was provided with excellent information.

The people working for Cyron carefully selected books and articles. Stories should have a happy ending. In no case should there be death or even the slightest injury of a hero.

Samantha couldn’t be called human. Hardly anyone in society is capable of laying diamonds in their bodies. But she is. All she had to do was learn something new. Preferably good. If the information was about something bad, far from the concept of “utopia”, then the diamonds formed in her blood were of disgusting quality. That’s why Mr Cyron’s birdie was so valuable to him. 

“You’ll sleep later, dear. Work does not wait,” John helped his assistant and the latter immediately approached the cage. “I brought you a new batch.”

After typing the code on the cage door, Bard put new books and cutouts from magazines and newspapers on the floor. And took the ones that Sam pointed to—the already processed ones.

“Dinner is in two hours, then you can rest,” John gave the order on his way out of the room. “And, yes, one more thing, baby bird. We’ll do the surgery tomorrow instead of the usual Saturday.”

“But the stones haven’t formed yet,” Sam remonstrated, but no one heard her.

***

At dinner, Samantha tried in vain to explain to John that it was too early to draw blood. All her arguments were shattered by a mask of coolness and silence. The only thing the billionaire said tonight was, “All I care about is money.”

He didn’t care about Samantha’s condition, he didn’t care that it might harm her body. All Cyron cared about was a three percent drop in income.

That evening, Sam actively “ate” new books and films. There was music playing in the headphones. But no matter how many times she consumes it, it doesn’t help. Quality is important, not quantity. She and John and Bard knew it. But none of them wanted to put up with the circumstances.

Late into the night, Sam was still reading a very fascinating book. Suddenly the lights went out, it was very dark. Samantha freaked out. Maybe from the abruptness of it all. It’s never happened before. Even if a fuse blew in the block, the house was equipped with a diesel generator. But the fact was, there was no electricity. So the cell code went dead, too. She’s free. Theoretically. Sam wasn’t sure she could get out of the cage; she never did. Wasn’t sure she could leave her hideout. Even though she wanted to get out of here, she thought that it was nice here. Why leave a place where you feel comfortable? Why change the routine?

The door to the room opened with a distinctive sound.

“Hey, come out! I’m risking my life, just so you know!”

The voice belonged to Bard. And when the man turned on the flashlight, the guesses were proved correct.

“But… I don’t want to leave…” Samantha hesitantly said. 

“No, you want to. And you will!” 

Sam gently stepped barefoot on the marble floor. She took Bard’s hand. 

“Let’s get out of this place!” 

It wasn’t hard to get out of the house. Most of the guards and staff were with the owner of the house, who fell asleep. But the mansion was guarded, too. 

“Don’t worry,” Bard warned when the friends walked to the gate where the post was. “Smile stupidly and stay quiet.” 

Sam unquestioningly agreed.

“Bard, is that you?” The security guard in the dark suit shone his light on the approaching people’s faces. 

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m getting this girl out of the house. A mistake was made.”

“What, John didn’t like that cutie?”

“No, the doll was great, but he got tired of her.”

“Oh, that old geezer,” he said in parting, opening the gate. Bard and Sam had already breathed out when the guard stopped them. “Wait! I didn’t see her come in.”

“She didn’t come on your watch,” Bard quickly recovered. 

“Well, then there’s no question.”

They got out. Samantha was free. And she was happy. And it felt like the rock that used to hang around her neck fell. There was nothing holding her.

“Here, here’s the money. The taxi will be here any minute,” Bard gave her the bills. “To the airport. A ticket to Shanghai. They’ll meet you there.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?” the girl got scared. 

“No, I have to stay. I’m glad I helped you. I hope I’ll see you someday, Sam.”

“Certainly, Bard.” 

The girl got in the taxi and disappeared in the cold of night. And that step may not have been easy, but it was necessary. The cage cut her wings, the bars consumed her life, the enclosed space made her vulnerable. And freedom was valuable for the simple reason that it could only give. 


End file.
